


Nothing Else to Wish For

by Esselle



Series: Sun God Hinata [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods, Alternative Perspective, Feels, M/M, Purple Prose, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 22:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14121840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esselle/pseuds/Esselle
Summary: 'When Hinata first found his own bright sun, it took him by surprise. Because Kageyama had none of those things. He was bitter, brash, dark—but with an intensity burning away inside him that nearly matched Hinata's own, despite his mortality.And he was, without question, beautiful.It took Hinata some time, to realize Kageyama didn't know this about himself yet.'--The whole world, seen through Hinata's eyes.





	Nothing Else to Wish For

**Author's Note:**

> :) hi everyone! It's been two whole years since I posted my first ever KageHina fic. I've wanted to write this little follow-up for a very long time -- some of Hinata's thoughts and feelings over the course of the original fic. It's quite stream of consciousness; I hope I've done it justice.

The sun god had never before been offered the soul of a mortal who was not beautiful.

It was Hinata's divine right, to be given the hearts and bodies of those humans who were most like him in their demeanor. Those who might have the honor of living at his temple, his sacred home, were always filled with laughter, and sweetness, and joy. They were beautiful.

So when he first found his own bright sun, it took him by surprise. Because Kageyama had none of those things. He was bitter, brash, dark—but with an intensity burning away inside him that nearly matched Hinata's own, despite his mortality.

And he was, without question, beautiful.

It took Hinata some time, to realize Kageyama didn't know this about himself yet.

The first time Hinata had ever truly seen him, Kageyama had already stood out. He was of wish speaker age, old enough to be one of the prospects for the sun god to choose to return to the temple with him. But he was not among their number, not sitting at the table feasting in the place of honor. Kageyama stood alone, watching the festival proceedings with eyes the color of the sky at night; the color of the absence of the sun.

It seized Hinata then, and never really went away: the intense desire to see himself there, in Kageyama's eyes.

Later, Hinata would realize Kageyama was alone because he was forced apart, against his will, by all the ways he was different to those around him. Hinata had seen that right away; he knew instantly this mortal's wish was different. What could this human want, more than the knowledge that the sun would rise and set on him and his people for the rest of their days? Hinata wanted to know what it was—even if he knew he couldn't grant it, for if he did, it would be the end of him.

He never dreamed that he would come to want to grant Kageyama's hopes, badly enough that he would let his star fall and fade.

In the end, Kageyama had tried to fight him over it—a mere mortal, issuing a challenge to a god. It was unthinkable, and Hinata had never been more intrigued.

"Are you telling me," Kageyama had demanded, "that the sun god has to grant a wish for the sun to rise in order to do his damn job?"

Hinata had caught him up and breathed against his skin, a command, a request, so close he could taste Kageyama. _Tell me your wish._

And Kageyama had. Kageyama wanted a family. Kageyama wanted a place to belong. And Hinata had understood him, a little bit better.

But not enough. Kageyama Tobio, he decided, would be coming with him.

To the shock of everyone else (and Kageyama himself), Hinata brought him back to the sun temple. His home gleamed bright and sparkling like Hinata himself. This was where Kageyama, and all the other wish speakers from villages like Kageyama's would live for the next year. It was like experiencing heaven early. Hinata's temple was a place of the finest and most bountiful pleasures, unlike any that could be found in the mortal realm. It was his way of thanking his worshippers for their love and their loyalty. Their devotion was what kept him burning bright.

So it felt natural to him to want to do something for Kageyama, who seemed entirely used to not having anything done for him. Hinata had never been as traditional as other deities like himself; he wasn't bothered about the mortals donning all the ceremonial clothing and jewelry and makeup he himself enjoyed. But… Kageyama's did leave much to be desired. He didn't want to try because he thought it wouldn't make a difference.

Hinata found proving him wrong to be enjoyable. Not only because wearing down Kageyama's stubbornly grumpy protests was deeply satisfying, but because done properly, instead of with rushed guesswork, the kohl only deepened the captivating depths of those night sky eyes. Hinata knew well the beauty of the dark sky, for he was a star, and that was where he made his home. How strange it was to find something so similar, in this strangely sad boy's gaze.

He could have sat there in Kageyama's lap, in his arms, for a very long time, just learning and unraveling the hidden pieces of him. And Kageyama might have let him in that moment, might have softened even in those early days. They might have skipped all the guessing that came after, though that slower learning had its merits, in the end. But for now, there was a feast to attend, and guests to greet.

He gave Kageyama his golden collar to wear, still warm from him, from the sun's heat. He needed to mark Kageyama as different from the others, not for them to know, but for Kageyama himself to believe that he was worthy of this.

As they walked to the banquet together, he caught Kageyama looking at his reflection in all the temple's gilded surfaces. Hinata smiled, pleased. When Kageyama questioned him about it (irritably), Hinata laughed.

"You look good," Hinata said. "That's what you were just thinking."  
  
"I was not," Kageyama said, before telling him to shut up.

This boy had no respect whatsoever, and Hinata loved it. It presented him with a task greater than granting wishes or entertaining humans or living his opulent life. Here was a mortal who had been raised in a mud hut—and yet, he wanted something more from Hinata than gold or fine food or special treatment.

That was where the first misstep occurred; Hinata had always thought he knew the hearts of mortals well, their needs and desires. He thought he knew Kageyama's, because he had sensed how fast it beat, when they were close together, when their eyes were on one another. But (and perhaps it shouldn't have been a great surprise), even for an immortal god, a few hours was not enough to know someone it would be worth spending lifetimes with.

Kageyama was lonely. That much was clear, even if he tried to act like he had chosen to be alone. It made Hinata's heart heavy to think that Kageyama might not realize he could let others in—let _Hinata_ in. What he failed to take into account was that Kageyama wanted this, too. But humans learned, after being burned, not to reach their hand out to the flames.

At first, it started off well. Hinata could feel the stirring signs of interest, of arousal, when he danced for Kageyama, distracted the rest of the crowd with visions of light so only Kageyama's eyes were on him, and so he was only meant for Kageyama. It had only gotten hotter, more intense, as Kageyama had pushed through a crowd that easily parted for him, until he and Hinata stood so close Hinata could nearly feel him, _wanted_ to feel him, so much closer than this.

 _"Hinata,"_ Kageyama had said, voice hoarse and full of uncertainty that Hinata longed to turn into intent—Kageyama said his name when no other mortal did, and Hinata wanted to hear it fall from his lips again and again, not _sun god_ but _Hinata Hinata Hinata._

"We can go," Hinata told him, more desperate than he could ever remember feeling before, "we can go _right now."_ He touched, then, unable to help himself, palm and fingers pressed to the warm, trembling muscle of Kageyama's stomach.

And Kageyama ran from him. Kageyama was angry… Kageyama didn't want him.

Much later on that evening, Kageyama had found him again—after Hinata had taken another of his followers to bed, hoping to fill the strange emptiness in his heart. Even then, it seemed obvious Kageyama didn't want him that way, as strange and unusual as that was. Kageyama had come to the temple to see if his wish could be granted, and in that he was bound to be disappointed. But Hinata managed to apologize, and they reached a truce of sorts.

Under the guise of letting an affronted Kageyama teach him how to act "properly" (whatever that meant), Hinata learned more and more about the mortal in return. He stopped being _Kageyama_ in Hinata's mind, and became _Tobio;_ and there were an almost endless amount of things that made Tobio react, explosively. He was unguarded, with Hinata. Sometimes he was angry. Sometimes, though he tried not to show it, he remembered things that made him quiet and solemn. And though he didn't always laugh or even smile, there were things that made him happy, made him fight hard to keep his joy from bursting out of him. Hinata liked seeing every side of him.

He didn't want to admit that he might love them. Because while they were becoming friends, Tobio surely didn't love Hinata. Not even in the way the rest of Hinata's followers did. But there was something nice, about that, because it meant whatever affection Tobio did hold for him wasn't blind or obligated. What he felt was real, because Hinata had to earn it from him.

This was all well and good—until the bet.

Hinata was used to things going his way (and overconfident, in truth) so he'd agreed without a second thought. Tobio didn't know, about the necessity Hinata had to be with mortals, to lie with them and exchange their energy with his own. It was hardly a romantic act, as it sometimes was with the humans; for Hinata cared for his followers and they adored him, but neither were in love with the other.

It might be different with Tobio. Too different to ignore it any longer, Hinata realized, after the incident with the fruit. After they fell, after Tobio wound up over him, big and fragile in so many ways and so _mortal—_ he had tasted Hinata, and now they were caught up in each other's eyes once more. And Tobio, like Hinata had seen from the start, was beautiful. He stared down at Hinata like he couldn't believe the way Hinata was looking at him. And maybe he couldn't—because Hinata ached to give him so much more, give him everything, not just his body and his heart but his _wish,_ too—

Hinata tried to distance himself, then. First in small ways, like avoiding the frequent brushes of contact they'd gotten too used to; he even stopped waking Tobio in the mornings, instead waiting patiently until Tobio woke up. To Hinata's surprise, it didn't make him feel restless; he felt more at peace instead, watching the soft rise and fall of Tobio's breathing, the way he looked in sleep. Like all the heaviness of his life was a little lighter. Sometimes, his breathing lulled Hinata so blissfully that even though he never need to, he would doze off as well. Some early mornings, he envisioned he could grant Tobio's wish, and still stay with him. He was never sure if the impulse was a thought, or a dream.

That was Hinata's second mistake. Because Tobio, who knew what it felt like to be pushed away and who feared being abandoned more than anything, realized what he was doing. And he was hurt; more than Hinata thought he would be. Of _course_ Tobio cared about him. Hinata had been stupid not to realize it. But Tobio didn't think anybody could truly care about him in return—not until Hinata had shown Tobio again and again that he did, only to pull away from him.

By the time Hinata understood, it was nearly too late; it came on the heels of him shouting at Tobio, telling Tobio not to touch him—because it was so hard to handle, Tobio's hands against Hinata's skin, his rough fingers, when Hinata felt he couldn't do the same, couldn't touch Tobio the way he wanted. Tobio had looked shattered, and then angry, and then resigned. And Hinata feared, for the first time in his life, that he was hated; that Tobio must hate him now, after what he'd done. He retreated.

But he underestimated Tobio. He still came looking for Hinata, was worried about him, of all things.

Hinata did the only thing he could. He told Tobio exactly how much he meant to him: "It's never felt like this. I _need_ to be around mortals, but I've never _wanted_ one like this before."

And after that confession, they had finally fallen into place. It wasn't that Tobio hadn't wanted Hinata, or wasn't interested in sex. He'd always been frightened, not just of rejection, but of being at fault. Maybe there was a reason nobody liked him, maybe his parents hadn't wanted him because he wasn't good enough. Hinata loved being near him, but…

"Everyone else always minded," Tobio said, in the quietest voice Hinata had ever heard him use. Every word told a long and heartbreaking story.

 _"I want you,"_ Hinata told him in return. He was a god; he could do anything. He would piece all of Tobio's heart back together. And Tobio would pray to him not because it was what he'd been taught, but because he was meant to belong here, to Hinata.

_Hinata, Hinata, please, Hinata._

It might not have been the wish Tobio had asked Hinata to grant—he still wanted a home, he still wanted his family—but the absence of those things didn't mean he couldn't be loved. Hinata would make sure he knew that. And Tobio began to doubt himself less, and less, every time Hinata showed him, told him, "You are everything."

But it took time for the changes to occur and so time passed as it always did—too quickly, now that they had found one another. The festival would come again, and so the year would end for those who had spent it at the temple, and the time would begin anew for new followers, new faces. It had always meant that, and Hinata had never been sad, because time well spent was never anything to be sad over. But this time, it meant saying goodbye to Tobio. It meant sending Tobio back to a place that had never loved him.

Hinata couldn't face that. And so, as the days wound down, he had made up his mind. He would grant Tobio's wish. Tobio would have a place he was meant to be. And Hinata would fade, knowing that he had done everything he could, for the first and only mortal he'd ever fallen in love with.

Their last night together, Hinata had taken Tobio back himself. Not back home… he didn't think either of them could call it that anymore. He brought Tobio back to where everything had started—where Tobio had lived, in a tiny hut on the banks of a long river, until Hinata had seen him and known he was different.

But it was living here that had made Tobio who he was; not pathetic, or lonely, or angry, like Tobio seemed to be afraid Hinata would think he was—it had made him someone who wasn't impressed by the sun god simply because Hinata glowed or was beautiful or was a living star in the guise of a human. He had found something else in Hinata to love, something that meant much, much more. He had wanted to see who Hinata truly was. And now Hinata would show him all he truly had to offer.

When Tobio had taken all of Hinata—the entirety of him, in all his divine glory, burning inside of him; when Hinata had pushed him past the point of rapture not once, not twice, but four times—then Hinata granted his wish at last.

"Tobio," he said softly, aware that his true voice might be too much for the mortal, even know, "tell me what you are."

"I'm the first," Tobio managed to say, even at the height of euphoria, of ecstasy no human was meant to experience unrestrained, "and the only one."

And he knew Hinata would give him everything. Now it would be in Tobio's hands, to find the family he'd sought for so long. There was no doubt in Hinata's mind that they would love him. So Hinata could be happy, even as he had to take his leave, to prepare himself for the end. But still, in a small moment of weakness, he made Tobio swear him a promise he knew Tobio couldn't keep.

"Promise me you'll remember me."

And Tobio, who couldn't know any better, asked, "How could I forget?"

Hinata couldn't bring himself to tell him. But, as it turned out, even after a year he could still underestimate Tobio.

The time that passed as Hinata faded was blurred and indistinct. It might have been a few days in the mortal realm, or months, or years. But each moment became slower, like honey that had been left untouched for too long. It meant Tobio had set out to do what he was destined to do—it meant he was getting closer to the wish pact being fulfilled. The world was forgetting Hinata, and soon he would vanish from it and its history entirely.

The temple stood empty for the first time. Since the start of existence, it had been alive with people and sound. Now the halls were quiet. This… this was what Tobio had known his whole life. A long and quiet loneliness, while Hinata's home had always been rich and full. But never fuller, than that smallest span of time spread across Hinata's whole existence: the year he had spent with Tobio.

He only voiced his deepest fears once, to an old friend, who came to see him right before the end. He had to have done the right thing—he had given the one he loved the thing they had always wanted, the thing they needed.

"Wasn't he happy here? With you?" his friend asked. The sky god was wise. Hinata didn't know the answer. He didn't want to know it.

"Did I make a mistake?" he asked, and the tears flowed freely, now that he had finally admitted it, in these last lingering moments. "Should I have kept him?"

But the one he loved would find his family soon, Hinata could sense it. He had grown very weak, now; it was nearly time. In the bed they had shared for so many nights, he would lay, as the glow dimmed and disappeared from him forever. The temple would crumble, and he would know nothing of it, for he would already be gone.

He waited.

He did not disappear.

His heart, suddenly, slammed inside of his chest—a booming _bang,_ again, and again.

With each pounding echo, the light returned to him. And a voice, one he thought he would never hear again:

**_I—belong—with—Hinata!_ **

And then he was there—Tobio had called him back, and Hinata was there. Because Tobio had always been getting closer to the thing he had wished for—he had been searching for it all the while, and now the wish was fulfilled. Tobio had understood before Hinata had, for the sake of them both.

"I wished for somewhere to belong," the mortal explained to the sun god. _"And here I am."_

And there he would remain. The sun would rise with him, and set with him, for as long as his life lasted. And one day the sun, too, might burn out, much like any other mortal would. They would all come to an end. Whether by love, or by time, they would end and be reunited.

Because Hinata had found himself in Tobio's night sky eyes. They would be together always, and warm in the dark; forever and lasting, like the distant lights of a billion other stars.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I commissioned art from my dear Cass/@craziiwolf to celebrate today \o/ and it was such a beautiful piece that it helped inspire much of this fic in return. Please do yourself a favor and [check it out here](https://twitter.com/craziiwolf/status/978713992511262721)! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading my work and supporting me these past 2 years; whether you read Somewhere to Belong when it was first posted, or you just found me ^^
> 
> [I'm [@esselley](http://esselley.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, [@Esselle_hq](https://twitter.com/Esselle_hq) on Twitter]


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